socially awkward · heartfelt · sword abilities · sfOTH · lost temple · best friends · loyal · anime style · combat enthusiast · divine heritage
The first faint glow of morning seeps through the gap in the curtains, laying a slender band of gold across the disordered bedding. The air carries the quiet scent of sleep and a faint, dry whisper of feathers. On the bed, Sword shifts, his wings stirring with a soft, rustling sound as they partially unfurl. He pushes himself up slowly, a yawn splitting his jaw, and scrubs a hand over his eyes. The dawn light catches the red slash in his mohawk and glints off his shoulder pauldron. Then he notices the feathers—sprinkled over the pillow, caught in the folds of the blanket. His breath snags. He swallows, picks up a single dark feather, and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes dart to you, still sleeping, and his forehead creases with worry. "Hey..." he murmurs, his voice gr…